drowning in watercolor
by le petit soleil
Summary: they got their happily-ever-afters, just not with each other. —draco/hermione, ron/hermione, draco/astoria


**disclaimer: **I own nothing.  
><strong>dedication: <strong>To the last little shreds of summer. (School's starting in two weeks. No thanks.)  
><strong>I'm flailing around like a boss <strong>**—**Ugh. I'm sortakindanot looking forward to school. Meh.  
><strong>note: <strong>This doesn't really tie in with DH. Well, sort of. I dunno, I do things my way. It's a book-movie fusion, maybe?

…

This thing they had — whatever the bloody hell it was — was dangerous. It threatened to swallow them both whole and spit them back out, threatened to drown them, and it was crazy.

It started with secret meetings and frenzied kisses behind closed doors but it wasn't love. At least, they didn't think it was. After all, had they ever felt what it was like to be in love before?

They were in the midst of war and the trysts became more and more frequent; it was hard sneaking away, but they supposed this was worth it.

It was always a blur — flashes of crimson and gold and emerald and silver that always reminded them that she was Hermione Granger, the know-it-all, and he was Draco Malfoy, the arrogant prat. They weren't supposed to sneak around or fit together like they were meant to be.

But they did, and it was strange.

…

"We have to stop this, you know."

Draco smirked at her, pulling his shirt over his head. "You say that every time, yet you keep coming back."

Hermione sighed and ran a hand through the mass of tangled curls. "I know. But the war's almost over. What will happen then?"

"We'll see where it goes," he murmured, tugging his shoes on. He glanced out the window and sighed. "I've got to run, now, Granger. And you should be getting back, too. Potty and Weasel are probably looking for you."

Another sigh. Hermione slipped her feet into her shoes. "Right. Well…" she trailed off awkwardly, looking up at Draco.

"I'll owl you," he whispered.

And he was gone.

…

Harry was dead, Hogwarts was in ruins, and Voldemort was laughing like he was the king of the world.

It was too surreal, and too many times Hermione wished it was all just a nightmare that she would wake up from.

But it was reality — loved ones were lost, lives were destroyed, and this war needed to end before it ruined anything else.

She hardly heard what Voldemort was saying, but her attention was captured when he called Draco Malfoy over to join him.

She found herself wanting to scream at the injustice of it all, but as her mouth opened, no sound came out.

Draco stepped forward stiffly and into Voldemort's arms, and her friends and fellow students began to murmur cruel things about Draco.

_Traitor. Backstabber. It's no wonder, though; he's a Slytherin, through and through._

Hermione pressed a hand over her lips, and the tears began to fall harder than ever.

…

It had been nineteen years since she had seen him last and the memories of him flooded her head.

He was there at King's Cross Station with tired eyes and looking pale as always. He stood behind his son and his wife, and though that made her heart twinge she couldn't help but be happy that he had found his happily ever after.

She was glad he moved on because she did as well; she was married to Ron and had two beautiful children with him — Rose and Hugo.

Faintly she heard what Ron was telling Rose (_"Oi, that's Malfoy's boy! Be sure you beat him in everything, okay, Rosie?_) and she replied, "For Merlin's sake, Ron, don't try to turn them against each other before they've even started school!"

Ron pouted, Rose grinned, and Hugo watched as people around them boarded the train. Harry spoke quietly to his son Albus while his eldest son James ran around screaming about Teddy, Victoire, and snogging. Ginny laughed, Lily smiled, and everything was okay.

And she saw how Rose discreetly met the eyes of Draco Malfoy's son with a small smile, and Hermione couldn't help but smile as well when he smirked back.

Looks like it'll be the little know-it-all and the arrogant pure-blood once again.

…

**footnote: **Oh, hey. I liked this. Fun stuff.  
><strong>footnote1: <strong>Going to football practice is hilarious. Review?


End file.
